6. Vanessa
Chapter 6
Vanessa
The barn incident from a week ago is still alive and well in the back of my head as I walk across the yard toward said barn.
The two stitches in my brow, the three staples in my scalp, and the spot on my arm—that I swear is still sore from that tetanus shot—are constant reminders. As if I could forget that graceful day.
Today though, I have help. Dean is carrying the new ladder to help me close off the windows above the stalls. The screens need to be changed out on a few. I didn’t know that was a viable option, to be honest. We never had screens in ours. We had a handle that hung from them that you could use to push them closed. Or we climbed up to the crossbeam and pushed it shut that way.
“I kind of want to get someone to close in over there. I’d like to make it a true space for hay storage, maybe build an awning-like space that leads out to the big paddock. It would give an outside shaded area as well.”
“Do you know someone who can do that?”
I look at him over my shoulder and grin. “I could do it, sure, but I’d need a lot of help. That crossbeam is a good fifteen feet above us. I’m strong, but I can’t just jump up there with a board on my shoulder. We’d need to rent some equipment too. It would mean opening the sliding doors to the horse stalls and letting them use that big side paddock for now. Which is a good idea, that grass is out of control.”
“Why don’t I call my uncle and cousins? They have the equipment, and building things is what they do for a living.”
“I like that option much better.”
He chuckles; walking by me, his hand comes out, and the swat stings. The good kind of sting. “Not that I can’t handle my wood, but expert help is always best.”
I can’t hold back my laughter. This man. I swear I hit the lucky girl lottery with him.
“What goes on this side? Goats? Horses in the bigger stalls on that side of the barn?”
“Yes,” I reply excitedly. The horses will be here in two days, so we have to get this place ready.
“If they have that grass while we get the hay room finished and ready for winter, that will be good. What do you say about three goats? I saw an ad on Facebook from a local farm who is selling Nigerian Dwarf Goats.”
“As long as you’re getting three females, I have no complaints. We are not set up for breeding animals just yet. That will be a lot later on.”
He smiles over at me as he climbs the ladder. “Of course. I am in no rush to lose sleep being up all day and night waiting for babies. So it’s a deal then. You have that line on chickens already?”
“Yes. The lady who I spoke to said she would have her husband call us as soon as he got back. They have a small flock, about one hundred birds to choose from.”
“How many do you want to start with?” he asks, climbing down.
“Well, we can use some chicken wire on that back stall, here. It’s big enough to make a roosting rack, a few nesting boxes. Maybe three or four, then when spring comes, we can get more. By then we can have the mobile chicken coops ready to go.”
“One side of the pastures for horses and one for goats and chickens?”
“Yes. I want to keep the horses separate from the smaller animals for now. They are flight animals. If something spooks them, I don’t want the little ones getting hurt.”
“Sounds fair. You do know I am learning this stuff as we go?” His brows bunch together.
I walk over to him, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck. “I do, and I love you so much. Thank you for letting me bring my dream to life.”
He wraps his arms around me, lifting me slightly so he can kiss me. “I will always give you what I can. You know that.”
“And I will always teach you what you need to know.” My smirk grows as he pulls back, his brow arched.
“Is that so?”
His lips are brushing mine when my cell rings.
Chuckling, he pulls back. “Saved by the bell.”
“Ha.” I tug it from my pocket and answer, my finger hitting the screen to put it on speaker. “Hello?”
“Ms. Conrad? This is Jed Loman. My wife gave me the message to call you back about some chickens?”
“Oh yes, thank you for getting back with me.”
By the time I end the call, we have a verbal contract for five hens. He has Partridge Plymouth Rock and Barred Plymouth Rock hens available. I know the names, but I do a quick Google search to refresh my brain.
“Those are the ones you’re getting?”
I look up to see Dean looking down at the cell.
“Yes. They’re good foragers that do well adapting to heat and cold. They’re friendly, usually they don’t get broody, so we won’t be fighting to get eggs.”
“I am not sticking my hand under a bird for eggs. I’ll leave that to you.”
“Aww, are you scared of a little ole chicken?”
“No.”
“Uh huh, sure.” I giggle, putting my phone back into my pocket. I walk around the barn, giving the horse stalls a last look before dragging a bag of bedding to the first one. I pull out my knife and slice along one end. When I tip it up, the bedding needs only one good shake to fall out.
“You look like you’ve done that before,” he teases.
“A couple of times. It’s like riding a bike.”
My cell rings again, making me jump. I pull it from my pocket. “Hello?”
“Hey, sweet pea.”
“Hi, Mama.” I hit the speaker button and set the phone on the top ledge of the stall.
“Are you still looking to open up that barn of yours?”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re out here now getting ready for two rescue horses. And we will be getting a few laying hens Friday.”
“Oh, that sounds promising. How do you two feel about adding a Jenny to the farm?”
I watch as Dean looks at the phone. His brows pinch together at the word Jenny.
“I mean, I’m not opposed to adding a donkey,” I say so he knows what she means. “But why are you asking?”
I shrug when he meets my gaze.
“We have a two-year-old, sweet as molasses, but the others aren’t so nice to her. She’s a little smaller than they are, and the horses are assholes to her.”
“Mama, your horses are assholes to everyone but you. They even hate me, and I’ve never done anything to them.”
“If you want her, she’s yours; otherwise, I’ll have to sell her at auction or something.”
I look over to where Dean is standing. He has his thinking face on. Finally he nods. “I’m down. Might be nice to have something loud on the farm. From what I’ve heard, they are very protective creatures.”
“She’s a sweetheart. I’m not just saying that. She is one of Jezebel’s grandbabies.”
“Oh, then hell yes.” I explain for Dean’s benefit, “Jezebel was my granny’s old donkey. She was the sweetest girl. An apple a day and she was willing to do anything for you. She died a few years ago. I think she was in her late forties.”
“They live that long?” he asks, astonished.
“Yes, horses, mules, donkeys—they all have long life spans.”
“Well, alright then. We do have another open stall over here. I’ll go grab bedding.”
“Mama, can you and Dad bring her over? We haven’t gone to get a trailer or anything to pull one yet. That isn’t an expense we can handle just yet.”
“We can do it,” Dean calls out.
“No, we can’t. I’m not draining your savings account for that. We are doing enough right now. Let’s pace ourselves.” I chuckle.
“Well, he didn’t take much convincing.”
“No, ma’am, he’s a really good man. I got lucky.”
“I know he is, baby girl, or you’d not be there with him.”
“Yeah.” I smile as he winks in my direction.
“When would you like us to bring her down?”
Dean smiles, still watching me. “You can bring her anytime. I need to go to Tractor Supply and get some feed for the horses; adding another bag won’t hurt anything.”
“Very well. I’m glad you agreed…”
I listen to the sudden background noises. “You’re already on the way here, aren’t you?”
Dean barks out a laugh as she agrees. “Your mother didn’t tell me you didn’t know,” Dad calls out.
“Mama, really?”
“I knew you would say yes, give your old mama some credit.”
She has a point.
“We can stop and pick up something for dinner, if you’d like?”
Dean nods, so I respond, “Sure, Mama, whatever you and Dad want. We aren’t picky. We’re out in the barn anyway. Watch for Stanley when you pull in. Just circle around to the back barn.”
“Why is that precious boy out in this heat?” She sounds offended on his behalf.
“He’s in time-out for trying to kill me earlier,” Dean calls out, his grimace a real one.
I, being the loving, caring girlfriend, cannot help but burst out laughing. The moment Stanley slid into the kitchen, losing his grip on the tile floor, replayed in my head. If Dean hadn’t been braced against the counter, washing dishes, he would have been wiped out. As it was, Stanley had slid into him, reached out, gripping Dean’s cargo pants. The claw marks on his calves would heal soon enough. Thankfully. It could have been a lot worse. My big boy has needle-sharp claws.
“Oh dear,” Mama huffs out a laugh. “You sure have it out for that poor cat.”
“Mama, he’s got a valid reason; Stanley tore his legs up earlier. It was an accident, but it still hurt.”
Dean shakes his head. “Did you tell them about your—” He lowers his voice as he speaks and waves a hand at the side of his face.
I snort. “Yes, they know I tried to brain myself while escaping the three blind mice. You won’t get blamed for it.”
He looks relieved. If there is one thing he knows for certain, my dad is not a man to play ‘fuck around and find out’ with. He’s always armed. Has a license to carry and does not for one second play with people.
I end the call with the promise of food on its way and go back to work. I am a sweaty mess by the time they get here. The rattling of the trailer behind them makes me smile. What I hadn’t expected was my uncle to be following them in his truck.
I give out big hugs, going limp against my dad’s big chest. He really does give the best freaking hugs in this world.
“Uncle Jake, I didn’t know you were coming.” I hug him, groaning when he squeezes hard enough to crack my back.
“Well, he’s here because we needed his help.” My mama wraps an arm around me and makes sure she is looking between Dean and me as she speaks.
“Your dad, uncle, and I are so proud of you both. You have full time jobs and are getting ready to take on another. I know you want to eventually leave the library and just do farming.”
“Not anytime soon. We’ve only started talking about it.” I hurry to cut in before she gets going.
“I’ve told her many times over the last few weeks, if that is what she really wants, I’ll support her. I make enough money to pay for what we need,” Dean says, smiling down at me.
My heart melts a little at that.
“Well, my boy, her mama and I have been waiting for this day. You can take a girl off the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the girl.”
“Waiting? Really, Dad?”
“Yes,” my uncle says, chuckling. “They’ve been counting down since you left for college. You’re their only daughter. What they have will one day be yours, as mine will be the boys.”
“We are not talking about that kind of stuff today.”
“We have no plans of dying today, daughter. Relax. But we are starting you off in style. Big red and the trailer are now yours. The truck has had a full overhaul, new wiring, new hoses, battery, all that stuff. The trailer has a new floor, three gates to make the ease of travel nicer. There’s room up front for three large dog crates or bales of hay. And, there are new windows along the sides. You can open them to let air flow through on warmer or cooler days.”
Dean walks up and takes my dad’s offered hand.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Dad, Mama, oh!” I hug them both as tears roll down my cheeks. “This is too much.”
“Never. You’re my baby girl. If I have it, it’s yours. Knowledge, back power, whatever you need.”
I hug my dad hard again.
“How about we get Miss Reba out of the trailer? I’m sure she’s ready to chomp some grass.”
I am dying of happiness right now. Reba McEntire has been my favorite country singer since I was a kid. To name her… Had they planned this all along? The twinkle in my mama’s eyes says she had.
Man alive, I am a lucky girl.